


You Know

by seamusdeanforever_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5102468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamusdeanforever_archivist/pseuds/seamusdeanforever_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By Pip Malfoy</p><p>Seamus rambles on, Dean knows, you know? ^.~</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cora: this story was originally archived at [Seamus/Dean Forever](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Seamus/Dean_Forever), which I opened in 2002, and which was closed in 2005 when the server that hosted it was closed. To re-open the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2015. An announcement was posted to OTW media channels, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Seamus/Dean Forever archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/seamusdeanforever/profile).
> 
> ***
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Neville doesn't understand why I don't celebrate Christmas, but I never told him, so it's okay. He wouldn't understand the fear wrapped in those happy little packages. He's never seen one explode. Red ribbons have always been made of silk and never of flesh, tissue paper has never contained dynamite and a steady ticking clock like a heartbeat. He's never understood why I let you open my presents, or why I hide my face in your back while you do. He wouldn't understand that fear. But it's okay.   
  
Percy doesn't understand why I never took Muggle Studies, or Muggle History, but I never told him, so it's okay. He never lived through the events in those books. Those useless, dry words never explained events that he lived, no, survived through. Those dreary statistics don't hide the names of his friends, they don't mask the deaths of his family. He's never had to see the streets of a city painted in the blood of its children. Ireland's green hills will never be black with blood for him. He never understood why I took advanced potions, when I hated Snape, he doesn't understand why you never ask me for help with the dates, when I excelled at Wizard History. He wouldn't understand what those dates mean to me. But it's okay.   
  
Harry doesn't understand my aversion to flying, but I never told him, so it's okay. He's never watched the lazy decent of a bottle containing destruction. He's never seen crimson rain, never encountered a disembodied limb, thrown back to the earth by the heavens. He's never understood why I duck behind you whenever a paper airplane whizzes by, or why you get so mad when the twins jokingly try to engage me in a spitball war. He wouldn't understand how hard it is to overcome instinct, how hard it is -not to run screaming every time something startles you from the corner of your eye. But it's okay.   
  
Hermione doesn't understand why I talk so much, but I never told her, so it's okay. Their accents don't remind her of how far from home she is, scary and hellish as that home may have been. Her voice doesn't remind her that she's still alive, alive because she was lucky enough to escape. Her voice doesn't remind her of her brothers and sisters, doesn't bring back the few happy memories she might have. She doesn't understand how good a single word can sound, she doesn't understand why you let me prattle on and on for hours on end about nothing at all. But it's okay.   
  
Ron doesn't understand why you let me follow you around, but I never told him, so it's okay. He's never been alone long enough to truly appreciate another's company. He's never been so lost he didn't know what country he was in, he's never been terrified by the thought of being in the wrong place. He's never seen death in a stranger's eyes, or heard safety in a stranger's voice. He doesn't understand why I'll randomly tackle you, or my constant need to know where you are. But it's okay.   
  
You understand the images that keep me up, but I never told you. You understand why I stay up all night singing to myself, but I never told you the reasons. I never told you about the nightmares, but you were always holding me when I woke from them. I never told you, but it's okay.   
  
Because you knew.


End file.
